One Day More
by Morralls
Summary: “See Daddy? I’m okay.” He promised. For once, Nate didn’t have to fake his return smile. He mussed his son’s hair. “You'll be perfectly fine Sam. I promise."


Maggie was in the foyer of Nate's little apartment, her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in and exasperated look.

"We've been through this a hundred times Maggs. I know the drill. In bed by nine, only healthy food, three square meals at regular intervals, and don't let him do anything too rowdy. Nice and quiet days inside, coloring, watching tv, and playing little games that aren't too strenuous. Did I miss anything?" Nate cut her off at the pass, and she scowled.

"I'm just trying to take care of him Nate." She retorted angrily.

"Then quiet down, or you'll wake him up." Nate hissed, his own irritation spiked. It seemed like the only conversations he and Maggie had nowadays were whispered arguments in his foyer. It seemed like they were always arguing over the same thing. Probably because they were.

"I'm just trying to protect him Nate, and to take care of him." Maggie repeated.

"Then loosen the leash a little." Nate retorted. "He's a kid."

"He's not well." Maggie reminded him harshly, tears in her eyes. "And if you let him overexert himself, then he'll just get worse."

"He's been improving, Maggie."

"That doesn't mean he can't get worse." Maggie said angrily. "I just want to be careful."

"There's a difference between being careful and being over protective." Nate replied. "He's still a kid, and we can't just take that away from him. He has the right to go and have fun. I agree that he should take it easy, but I'm not going to coop him up inside all day. _I'm_ not going to be the one to take Sam's life away." He could see that hurt Maggie. She recoiled, tears in her eyes, and he immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I just... I can't keep him inside all day, every day. If..." He swallowed back his own tears, his worry, and forced himself to continue the thought. "If things end badly, I want Sam to be able to enjoy whatever time he... has left." Nate couldn't stop a few tears from running down his face, mirrored on Maggie's.

"Nate..." Maggie placed a hand on his face, wiping the tears away so that she could press a kiss to his cheek. They had gotten divorced almost a year ago, but Sam kept them close, kept them friends. They had still been the best team that IYS had, until Nathan left. Maggie cleared her throat and changed the subject. "Have you found a new job yet?" She asked. Nate shook his head.

"I have an interview on Wednesday though, with Russell Insurance." Nate replied.

"Nate, why'd you quit?" Maggie asked, looking unhappy.

"Because Ian and I finally found a difference that I couldn't look past." Nate said darkly. He wasn't about to say any more on the subject, something which Maggie knew full well.

"I really wish you'd tell me what that difference was." She tried anyway. Nate shook his head.

"Don't worry about it Maggs. It's not your concern." Well, actually, it _was_, but Nathan couldn't tell Maggie that Ian Blackpoole had refused to help pay for Sam's treatment. He just _couldn't_. "You've got to get to work." He reminded dully.

Maggie nodded. "Take care of yourself. You know how I worry."

"I know." Nate replied. "You know I wish you didn't. I'm fine Maggie." Maggie wished she could believe that, but there was something that Nate hadn't told her. Thirteen years of being married, and Maggie knew when Nate was hiding something. What she didn't know was what caused the pain and self loathing she saw in his eyes, when he thought no one was looking. She couldn't figure out what it was that had broken him so thoroughly.

"I'll be back to pick him up tomorrow around six, okay?" Maggie said. "Bye Nate." She kissed him on the cheek again, then left. Nate sighed and stood there for a long minute, getting his grief under control, then went into his den.

Sam had woken Maggie up early that day, asking to go and see Nate. She hadn't the heart to refuse, and dropped Sam off early. Their son had fallen asleep on the couch shortly after arriving, and Nate and Maggie had left the room to have their usual argument. Now, Nate was grieved to see that Sam was sitting on the couch, awake and aware, watching Nate with his father's eyes: cerulean blue and full of secrets. He had been listening.

"Hey Kid. You feeling alright? Get enough sleep?" Nate checked smiling.

"Yes." Sam nodded, gazing steadily at his dad. Nate studied his son. Sam had Maggie's straight hair, but in Nate's dark brown color. His eyes were the exact same shade of blue as Nate's instead of Maggie's green. Sam had Maggie's smile though, and her heart, which was accompanied by Nate's morals. "Daddy? I'm okay." Sam promised. Nate blinked back tears and went to kneel before his son.

"I know Kiddo." Nate said, forcing himself to smile.

"Are you?" Sam asked. "Are you okay?"

_No_. Nate nodded. "Yeah. I'm great Sam." He lied. "Are you hungry, or did Maggie give you breakfast?"

Sam shook his head. "I didn't have breakfast." He replied. Nate turned around, exposing his back, and Sam wrapped his arms around his neck for a piggy-back ride. Nate carried his son into the kitchen and sat him down.

"So what do you want?" Nate asked, leaning against the counter and looking at his son. Maybe it was _because_ Sam was sick, but he was so much more mature than most children, aside from the fact that he hadn't undergone the transition from calling his parents 'Mommy and Daddy'. He had started to call the 'Mom' and 'Dad', but when he got sick, he reverted and had called them that ever since.

"French toast!" Sam exclaimed, grinning. That was his favorite breakfast, and Maggie never let him have it because she considered all the sugar and butter on it unhealthy. Nate didn't have the heart to refuse that smile, even though he knew that Maggie would kill him for it later.

He asked Sam about school while he cooked, trying to fill the silence. Sam eagerly chattered about his teacher and his workload while his father prepared his favorite meal, going into minute detail about the smallest things. As always, Nate was impressed by how observant and intuitive his son was, and how the boy never missed even the smallest detail. He set the plate in front of his son and nursed a cup of coffee while the child ate, then scampered off to catch the morning cartoons. It wasn't until noon or so when Sam came to find Nate, where he was sitting with his book.

"Daddy, can I go outside?" Sam asked, already looking like he expected the answer to be no. It about broke Nate's heart. He knew that he should say no, and keep Sam inside where he wouldn't overdo it. He knew that it would be the smarter, more responsible choice.

"Be careful, and don't be too rowdy." Nate warned. Sam's face lit up into a wide smile.

"Really?"

Nate smiled and mussed his son's hair. "Yes, now go, before I change my mind." Sam grinned and ran out the door. Nate moved to a chair by the window, where he could surreptitiously keep an eye on his son without making the boy feel watched. Sam had been looking good today, with some color in his cheeks and more energy than he usually displayed. It was enough to give Nate hope that maybe Sam _would_ make it. He watched his son run around the backyard and annoy his neighbors, like any ten year old hoodlum, and he couldn't help but smile. There was hope for Sam Ford yet.

He called his son in after an hour, with the excuse of lunch. Sam came running up the back steps and threw his arms around his dad's waist. Nate hugged him back, then pulled him inside for lunch.

As Sam devoured his peanut butter and jelly, he looked up at Nate and smiled. "See Daddy? I'm okay." He promised. For once, Nate didn't have to fake his return smile.

He mussed his son's hair. "You'll be perfectly fine Sam. I promise" He vowed. Sam's answering smile put the sun to shame.

"But you know Daddy, I owe you." Sam said abruptly, his face serious. Nate frowned, confused.

"You owe me what?"

"A checkmate." Sam replied. The last time Nate and Sam had played, Nate had checkmated Sam five minutes into the game because his son had left himself open. That was one deal he had made to his son that he always lived up to: to never go easy on Sam. With a rueful smile, he went to get his oak chessboard.

They played five games. Nate won twice, and Sam beat him twice. They were on their fifth game when Sam started to grow pale. Nate watched him carefully, but said nothing. Sam was frowning at the chessboard, his hand hovering over his black bishop. He moved it, and knocked his father's knight over, and then collapsed.

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Nate called Maggie on his way to the hospital, and told her in a shaking voice what happened. She told him that she would be there in ten minutes. He watched, alone, as they wheeled Sam in, and then Maggie was running to him and they were pulling each other into a hug, all their differences forgotten as they gave each other what comfort they could. Maggie ended up sitting down, waiting with patience that Nate didn't have for some word. Nate stood at the door to the ER, his breathing ragged as he watched them try to save his son. Then he watched them fail.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Nate walked into his apartment in the middle of the morning, his eyes red from crying. The apartment seemed huge to him, and too quiet. He went into the kitchen, where the chessboard sat. The white knight was lying on its side at the base of the black bishop. The chessboard burned well. The pieces burned even better.

The flames reflected off his blue eyes, red and puffy from earlier, but dry now, and clouded over. He took another sip of his gin, then threw the glass into the fire. There was the crash of the glass shattering, and the fire flared up with renewed power, renewed hunger.

"_See Daddy? I'm okay." _

"_You'll be perfectly fine Sam. I promise."_

Nate closed his eyes, holding back his tears. He had promised, and he had been wrong. How could Sam, who looked so vital and healthy this morning, be so suddenly gone. The next day was Sunday, but Nate had no intention of going to church, though he had always been religious. God had taken Sam from him, and God had been _wrong_.

"I'm_ not going to be the one to take Sam's life from him_._"_ Had that been true? If Nate had kept Sam inside that day, instead of letting him go and overexert himself, would the boy be sleeping right now? Would he still be alive?

Had he killed his own son?

It was the question that Nate needed to know the most, and it was the question that he could never get the answer to.


End file.
